


Tale of a Gingerbread House

by JaneEyre



Category: Jane the Virgin (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2016-12-18
Packaged: 2018-09-09 11:58:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8889952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JaneEyre/pseuds/JaneEyre
Summary: Jane and Michael decided that this year, they would try their hands at baking. More specifically, a gingerbread house.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tvconnoisseur](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tvconnoisseur/gifts).



> A thank you to my wonderful beta : Aurilly and htbthomas
> 
> Song's the one Bruno Mars sang on the show : Rest of my life

“It says right here to use a stick and a half of butter, at room temperature.” Jane pointed at the number on the paper.

 

“Maybe,” Michael said. “But that’s not how my grandmother did it. She always used one stick and her houses never crumbled.”

 

“Nuh, no. There’s a reason why this recipe is number one on the website. We’re not taking any chances this year. Remember the doughnuts?”

 

Michael laughed as he remembered the catastrophe that last year's holiday cooking had been. “The one that your abuela gently said that they were ‘rosquillas de piedra’?”

 

Jane and Michael both remembered that incident and were determined to succeed this year. They were, after all, both intelligent people and a gingerbread house couldn’t be that difficult to make.

 

But after what seemed like an eternity, but was in reality more like hours, they resigned themselves to failure, watching as their house fell. The pretty roof, with tiles made with love, never stood a chance against gravity. The fact that Michael had wanted to put as much candy as they could fit didn’t help.

 

They had tried putting more icing between the walls, hoping that if the foundation were solid, the roof would stand tall. After that, they decided that their gingerbread studio would become a two-room home, hoping that the extra wall would provide the support their creation needed. No chance there.

 

Michael refused to believe that was it. They could succeed, they had to. “What if we tell people that there was an earthquake? That could work.”

 

“Michael….”

 

“Or we could take the walls, break them into little walls, and make a village of tiny tiny houses?”

 

“Michael…”

 

“If that won’t work we could…”

 

“Michael!”

 

“What?”

 

She moved closer to him, put her hand over his, and rested her head on his shoulder. “Michael. I think we have to call this one.”

 

“You’re right.”

 

“Mm, mm, mm. You know I am.”

 

“Time of death, 4:16 pm.”

 

“We’ll just buy something at a bakery and tell people it was made with love. Which is like only a half-lie, considering all the work we put into making…. this.”

 

Jane was still curious to see if the taste was good, despite the lack of solid foundation. Much to her dismay, it wasn’t.

 

“Try the icing. We didn’t quite follow the recipe for that one, so maybe it’s good.”

 

And so Jane tried it.

 

When she saw the amused look on Michael’s face and his finger pointing at her face, Jane ran to the bathroom. Michael followed her and leaned on the doorframe, arms crossed. The mirror was showing what seemed to be a clown, but the clown had her eyes and hairs. Let’s just say the food colouring they added to the icing had decided to stained the corner of Jane’s mouth. And her cheeks, tongue and lips. She turned away from the mirror.

 

“This is your fault. You were the one who wanted me to try the icing.”

 

She brushed his arm as she passed him, returning to the kitchen. The counter was a mess full of half-baked cookie batter. The bowl full of colorful icing was sitting right next to the remnants of the house they’d tried so hard to build.

 

Jane reached for the decorations just as Michael walked into the kitchen. She stood there, icing in one hand and candy in the other and let herself descend to the wooden floor. She patted the space next to her.

 

“At least this is good, we’ll eat that while we think about what went wrong. Because we are absolutely trying again tomorrow. I am not bringing store-bought gingerbread to my mother’s party.” She took a pause and laughed. “And if I have to bear the rainbow on my face, you’re gonna join the club.”

 

Michael helped himself and sat next to her, back against the drawers. He stole the spoon from Jane and tried it. It was indeed pretty good and the laugh Jane released made it clear that she now wasn’t the only one with a little bit of color on her face.

 

The radio was still playing in the background. When Michael heard the piano and guitar intro, he stood up and turned to face Jane. She had a quizzical look on her face. Without a word, he held out his hand, palm up, in invitation. Jane pushed herself off the floor and placed her hand in his.

 

_Every day I wake up next to an angel_

_More beautiful than words could say_

 

Jane had never looked so beautiful as she did in that moment. White powder was in her disheveled hair, her mouth was covered in icing, and her apron was messy from the gingerbread-making.

 

His hand started trailing down her lower back, the other, on the back of her neck, pulled her closer. He could smell the ginger in her hair. He took her hand and started swaying with her.

 

_They said it wouldn't work, but what did they know?_

_'Cause years have passed and we're still here today_

 

He let go of her hand and back to place his hands on her hips. Jane pulled him closer by the neck. Their feet balanced in sync to the rhythm of the music.

She looked up and her eyes met his.

 

_As I stand here before my woman_

_I can't fight back the tears in my eyes_

_Oh, how could I be so lucky_

 

The short distance between their foreheads was soon reduced to zero. Jane’s nose scrunched up against Michael’s. Lost in the song, and the dance, they closed their eyes, wanting to enjoy the little bit of peace they had managed to find.

 

_Funny how time flies when you're in love_

_It took us a lifetime to find each other_

_It was worth the wait 'cause I finally found the one_

 

Jane’s left hand found its way into Michael’s hair, while the other stayed on his shoulder. She lifted herself on tiptoes and tilted her head to the right. Michael slowly followed suit and closed the gap between their lips. She tasted like sugar and ginger.

 

And in that moment, Michael knew that he never wanted to let this woman go. He deepened the kiss. She stumbled backward, against the counter, and opened her lips.

 

Jane started tracing Michael’s cheek, her thumb lingering on the edge of his lips, while Michael drew abstract patterns on her back.

 

_I must've done something right_

_And I promise to love her for the rest of my life_

 

As the last strains of guitar faded into the next song, Jane broke the kiss, her forehead still against Michael’s. “At least Abuela won’t be able to say that this one was made of stone.”

 


End file.
